


Honey, Honey

by zenstrike



Series: heavy but slowly [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Citadel DLC, Established Relationship, M/M, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 22:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11700726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenstrike/pseuds/zenstrike
Summary: “I’m pretty sure that’s not how these things start,” Jeff replied, scoffing. He gestured at the bare table. “Usually it’s ‘how was your day honey’ and ‘you’ll never believe the shit Sharon pulled in the office today honey.’”“You want me to call you honey?”“Hell no. But I know you just thrive with an example.”“A lead to follow.”“That’s you. A born follower. I’ve always said it.”----Joker and Shepard have their first date. More or less. Seize the moment, gentlemen.





	Honey, Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gayspaceelf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayspaceelf/gifts).



Ah, shore leave.

Fucking finally.

Fucking date night.

Jeff was sweating. He had ordered a second cocktail with every intention of downing it before Shepard showed up but a fresh wave of nerves had forced him to reconsider that. Now it stared up at him, dribbling drink-tears on the hyper clean table. Or Jeff guessed, anyway. He hadn’t taken his eyes from the crowded entrance to the restaurant since his fatal decision not to down his drink.

He should have worn something different. Better. Except that he didn’t own anything better.

Jeff was sweating.

Date night. More like _first_ date night. He was pretty sure this had all started with Shepard grumbling and cursing shore leave, grumbling and cursing leaving _their_ ship in someone else’s hands. Frankly, they’d both had enough of that and they were agreeing so nicely and then Shepard had just finished his grumbling with one big old sigh and: “Well, at least we can finally go on a date.”

“Fucking date night?” Jeff had managed out, just shy of squawking.

“That sounds lovely,” EDI had piped up, and made Shepard laugh.

Jeff was sweating way too much. He had showered twice after getting Shepard’s message—his _invitation_. EDI had given him loads of advice and just enough coddling to get him to the restaurant, though Jeff had really only listened to half of it.

Now he was alone. And way too early. Or his—or Shepard was way too late. He thought about his drink. He thought about how nice it would be to just even sip at it. And then he thought about how terrible it would be to be drunk for their first official date. Did this mean they were dating now?

Jeff shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He blinked, and then there he was.

He thought, briefly, that seeing Shepard emerge from the bustling line and into the way too nice restaurant would only exacerbate his irritating nerves. It didn’t, and Jeff was okay with that, especially when their faces broke into matching wide grins.

It felt like forever since Jeff had last seen Shepard’s stupid face.

Scratch that, it wasn’t stupid. It was perfect. Or nice, at the very least. A nice enough face to look at for the rest of his life.

And so Jeff drank, but compromised with his nerves by only drinking half the glass.

“Hey,” he managed out, and there was that almost-squawk again. All the same, his smile grew. Seeing Shepard demanded a thousand stupid metaphors and similes and bla bla. Jeff couldn’t muster up a single one. All he could think was how glad he was to see him, and how nervous he was to be here with him.

By way of greeting, Shepard balanced himself against the table with one hand, knocked Jeff’s cap up just slightly with the other, and then planted the lightest of kisses against Jeff’s forehead. It was familiar. It was warm. It was like a cool breeze over Jeff’s skin, and so much of the tension in him dissipated. He felt goddamn refreshed. He wanted to tell Shepard that, kind of.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said instead, and batted down his cap again. “You’re late.”

Shepard rolled his eyes. Jeff watched him basically melt into to Jeff’s right, all long limbs and restless fingers tapping against the edge of the table.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shepard echoed, but he was still smiling. So was Jeff.

The server appeared. Just blink, and there they were.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Shepard said, with a jerky nod in Jeff’s direction. He tilted his head then, and glanced at Jeff’s drink. He leaned across the table and all but whispered: “What are you having?”

“Haven’t ordered any food yet,” Jeff replied, just as quiet. He shrugged.

Shepard blinked. He leaned back. “I’ll have that fluorescent green thing he’s having.”

When the server had slipped away to retrieve said beverage, Shepard turned his bright smile on Jeff again.

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how these things start,” Jeff replied, scoffing. He gestured at the bare table. “Usually it’s ‘how was your day honey’ and ‘you’ll never believe the shit Sharon pulled in the office today honey.’”

“You want me to call you honey?”

“Hell no. But I know you just thrive with an example.”

“A lead to follow.”

“That’s you. A born follower. I’ve always said it.”

Shepard laughed, then leaned forward just enough to take one of Jeff’s hands. Jeff realized too late that he wasn’t surprised by the gesture, but why would he be? This was Shepard. Generous with his affections, especially so with Jeff, like these constant peppering reminders that _yeah I really am in love with you and I’m going to touch you forty times a day to prove it_. And Jeff was okay with that, really, whatever his mouth snapped. This casual outpouring of affection, of borderline dedication.

Honestly, he kind of loved it. He loved that he could count on the occasional, important and borderline public, kiss to his forehead or cheek or even once to the top of his head. He loved that he could reach out, half-distracted, and so often find Shepard’s hand waiting for him. He loved that it had been so easy, so casual at first, that they hadn’t even realized the direction they had been slipping towards until Shepard was dead and Jeff was desperate just for his smile.

Jeff turned his hand so their palms touched. Shepard’s fingers twitched against him, and his smile grew blinding.

“I meant it,” Shepard said. “I know I was just sort-of-joking yesterday, but I’m really proud of you for taking the first step.” He gestured around them with his free hand. “Look at this place! Very public. Very fancy.”

Confusion whirred in the back of Jeff’s head, alongside the slight buzz from his drink and a half. “Almost too fancy for a first date, wouldn’t you say?” He tried to edge some accusation into his voice but failed.

Another wave of Shepard’s hand, this time dismissive. “ _Honey_ ,” he drawled, and Jeff rolled his eyes. “I can forgive that. What I’m trying to say, Jeff, is _thank you_ for the invite. For planning our first real honest-to-goodness date.”

Jeff blinked. “Huh?”

Shepard blinked.

Jeff shook his head. Slowly, reluctantly, he withdrew his hand. “Wait. _You_ invited _me_.”

“I did?”

“You did!”

Shepard caught himself a moment later. “I did not.” He sounded almost offended. It was almost cute.

They grimaced at each other, then Shepard groaned and threw himself back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling. A small party at a nearby table began shooting them unimpressed looks, and Jeff made the stupidest face he could at them in retaliation.

When they had looked away, Jeff stared down at his drink. “I guess date night is over.”

“Date night hasn’t even happened yet,” Shepard muttered. “Was it EDI?”

“Maybe.”

Neither of them believed it. Bad luck was the name of their game, after all. Bad luck had _killed_ Shepard, after all, so why wouldn’t it ruin date night?

“She loves to meddle with us,” Shepard continued, a little desperately. “She’d totally set this up thinking we were both too stupid to do it ourselves.”

“She would be right,” Jeff agreed sullenly. “But we would know if it was her.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

A moment past, and then Shepard sat up and leaned his elbows on the table, staring hard at Jeff.

“We’ll try again,” he promised then, and he was less Jeff’s _significant other_ and more Jeff’s CO.

Jeff could only nod before he downed the rest of his drink. As though the universe had taken this as a go ahead, a high-pitched voice sounded across the restaurant, interrupting at least twelve separate meals.

“Commander! Commander Shepard!”

And all they could do was stare at each other.

**Author's Note:**

> A little silly, a little sweet, and one forehead kiss. I hope you like it.
> 
> EDIT: This is a treat!!!!


End file.
